Papa's Papillon
by Bunnillusion
Summary: Papa loves you. So why is he leaving? (Papa!France x Child!Reader)


"Papa! Papa look! A butterfly!" You scrambled after the stain-glassed creature, as if it were a new plaything.

" _Non, mon chère_ , in my house we call this one a _papillon_." You giggled and repeated the word, trying to roll the l's as Papa has done. You liked it when Papa spoke of his "home." His eyes glistened with unwanton pride and the rims darkened with worry in a black hue. To him, it seemed, his house was a second child, strong in stature, but weak in will.

"Papa?"

"Yes, _chère papillon_?" You laughed at the new nickname he called you. Papa always came up with a silly nickname for you. Your thoughts wandered. How can you, a lumbering, clumsy child ever be as feathered and beautiful as the butterfly you just saw? You shook your head and straightened your wandering thoughts, determined to ask the question long-conceived.

"Papa, how come I can never come to your house? It sounds very pretty, but you never show it to me!" You studied his expression and widened your eyes; you have never seen such feelings in Papa before. His content and nostalgic gaze became one of pain and loss; fear, even. In that instant, it looked like Papa had aged many centuries and wanted to stop his eyes from seeing any longer.

That moment of silence lengthened into minutes and soon Mother Nature resumed its chorus, reverberating through the field that Papa had taken you to, saying that it looked "just like the fields in his home."

"Papa?" You asked, drawing his attention again, his aged eyes looked into yours and for a moment you thought you saw the lives of many pass through your memory, from birth, adolescence, to death. You looked away, unable to see more.

" _Mon chère_ , when you are older, you will understand, but to come to- Papa's home; it is a _péché_ , a mistake. It is one I can never forgive myself for."

You couldn't understand, of course you couldn't! Here is Papa with strange eyes and a serious tone. It seemed as if he was an unworldly being, unfit for this earth. However, your mind could not wrap such matters and you continued to beg, "But Papa! I want to go to your house with you! Even Mama hasn't gone yet!"

Tears began to bubble and your nose was stinging. You have never heard Papa sound so sad! It felt so unnatural and you were lost in what to do.

Of course, Papa thought it was tears from the rejection and he tried to compromise in a panicked voice, "Don't cry, _Papillon_! Let Papa think! Um, how old are you?"

"Six!" You cried, wondering how this would end, "And three months!"

"Then, when the time comes, it won't take long, I will let you come into my house, but only if I think you're ready! Okay, is that better?"

"Okay!" You were excited, this almost seemed like another adventure Papa would take you on!

"But-" He spoke, voice detached of emotion, "You must be warned that my house is dangerous. It's not meant for people like you."

You didn't catch the hidden meaning behind these words, only concentrating on the unnatural tone of his voice. He spoke like an important person, like a king talking to his people. But he also sounded very melancholy, as if he was foreseeing the outcome and it was another unhappy ending.

You couldn't follow the mystery behind Papa and you answered with a cheerful, "Okay!"

Papa's face lifted and his eyes resumed the beautiful azure shade they were before. He tossed his golden locks to the wind and looked at you, smiling, "Now, _Papillon_ , shall I show you the roses?"

The days continued like this, begging to go to his house and him brushing it off as "you're not ready" and so you continued to live in this safe haven of sunlight and wondrous stories of his home.

Of course, as all things end, so this unusual fantasy did too, shattering all from a single phone call to Papa.

One year. That was all it took from the happy home you lived in, to a poisonous war zone between both parents. It all started with a single argument, Mama didn't want Papa to go to the World Meeting and soon that fight became evident in the tension, Papa no longer gave the beautiful smiles or even brought up his home that he loved so much.

One night, over plates of dinner, Mama suddenly snapped, "Eight years? That's ridiculous!"

" _Mon amour_ , I can not take you and her with me to the meet-"

"To hell with your meetings! You have a child to care of!"

"Who is mortal. You are too. Please, I beg you dear, listen. I can't bring mortals there! You don't understand the heartbreak of-"

"I always knew you would leave! But, your daughter- she's only seven."

"I warned you to not fall-"

"Papa are you leaving?" You spoke up, unwilling to let the fight go any longer. Silence fell around the table and it was more devastating than the noise. Soft sobs from Mama was the music of the table and Papa looked away from you.

"Papa, you can't leave, right? You love Mama and me, right? So even if you leave it won't be for a long-"

" _Papillon_ , please. Go to your room. Okay?"

"But Papa-"

Mama spoke up, "Just shut up and go to your room!" It was the first time you heard Mama yell at all. To make it worse, she was yelling at you. You felt a little shatter go through your heart. You felt betrayed and obediently scurried out the room as a disapproving retort from Papa was heard.

You shuffled from the bed, tears already coming through your eyelids, but you held firm, hiding your tears. After all, Papa said that being happy was the best thing you can have.

Even past midnight, you devoted all energy to keep the tears at bay, wanting the days where Papa took you on the meadows and let you put flower crowns on his golden locks. When the burning tears and choked throat subsided, you began to think of a story Papa once told.

" _When you're sad, just remember that bad things happens so that the beauty underneath can shine out." Papa was lying down on the meadows as he said this with his eyes fastened on your hands. You didn't understand these words and continued on looping the stems together._

 _"_ _Like a caterpillar," He continued, gazing at your chubby fingers, "It gets trapped in a cocoon and yet, when it wriggles out, it becomes the beautiful butterfly- like you." You said nothing and eased the delicate chain on your own head. You laughed in delight when the crown fit perfectly._

 _"_ _Like a dear Papillon."_

You fished out the frumpy little doll for comfort. It was a funny little thing with blonde hair and thick eyebrows. Papa gave it to you saying that it reminded him of an old friend, regardless, its name became Mr. Grouchybrows.

"Mr. Grouchybrows, why does Papa have to leave? He can just stay here with Mama and me, right?

"Stop thinking too much! Goodness, even your blockheaded father doesn't have a brain, I don't see why you should!" You giggled at his sharp retorts.

"But Mr. Grouchybrows! Papa loves me right?"

"Of course, you imbecilic twit! I bet the real question is if he knows that you love him."

You tried thinking back to when you last said "I love you," but you just couldn't. The countless words he tried to teach you also were forgotten, leaving only your nickname, _Papillon_. Butterfly.

"B-but what if Papa leaves without knowing that I love him?" You began to panic thinking of the farwell. You've never had anyone leave in your life, Papa and Mama were the only ones you'd ever need so why was Papa leaving?

"Well, you'd better go after him before he leaves! Goodness and I thought you had a brain."

"Thank you Mr. Grouchybrows!" And with Mr. Grouchybrows in hand you rushed to Papa and Mama's room as fast as you could in the warm pajamas.

"Papa! Papa! Wake up, I-" The door was open showing the lying figure of Mama without Papa at all.

"Papa! Papa!" You ran through the house, searching frantically for Papa.

Nothing. Where was Papa?

The entrance door was open, leaving only the slightest trace that Papa was there.

"Papa!" You ran out the door, cold air greeting you. And there you saw Papa standing outside. A hat covering his eyes and a suitcase in his hands.

"Papa…" The tears sprung out. How can you be happy when Papa will leave you?

"Please don't leave…" Papa said nothing and knelt down to put you in a hug. Nothing was said.

" _Papillon_ , Papa won't be gone for long, okay? It'll only take ten days and then I'll be back."

You wiped your tears away, "Promise?"

He looked away and then continued to keep his gaze away from you.

"Promise."

"Papa, at the end of ten days I'll come out and bring crowns, okay? One for you and one for me."

"Okay."

"And Papa?"

"Yes?"

"I love you, Papa. I wanted to tell you."

"O-okay." And with a sudden drop, he let go of you and walked swiftly to the car.

"Papa will come back." You said to Mr. Grouchybrows, "He will come back and we can all be happy again. And Papa never, **ever** breaks promises."


End file.
